In the Years that Pass
by Mackie Effing Mad
Summary: We all know the story of the plane crash on an island in the middle of nowhere. We know the story of the boys who were stranded for months, with no ties to society or grown ups. But what we don't know is: What happened when they got back? As two of the boys grow up and become men, they are tortured by passed wrongs. "Maybe there is a beast." "What I mean is...maybe it's only us."


**Well, I've been kind of dormant, lately. Aha...sorry ^_^'. For any of my other readers I'll tell you right now (if you reading this) that I'm currently working on the next chapter of my Night World fanfic and my Jeff the Killer fanfic (cuz apparently that's happening, now.) But this is completely different, cuz this is a Lord of the Flies fanfic. Cue the cheers of excitment. Yeah...okay, welll you'll have to forgive me if it isn't the best; I'm not really used to writing completely angsty pieces. Anyway, let's get this road on the show, shall we ;3. **

**In the Years that Pass**

-Rescue-

For the boys who survived their strenuous trial on that cursed island-seemingly a place of fun and enjoyment at first but plagued now by death and nightmares and savagery-the trip home was a long, unpleasant journey.

Of course, with a war going on back home the only plausible option for the naval officer was to make them as comfortable as possible on the ship with what little space they had and pray to god above nothing happened to the crew or ship now, with such precious cargo.

There were very few rooms left empty by the crew-even though a few rather noble lads gave up their own and bunked with another to make room for the tots-and the remaining bunch of boys were left to stay in storage rooms and told sternly not to touch anything. Jack and Ralph were bunked together in one of the rooms, the officer blind to their rivalry. At first Ralph was hesitant, but it seemed as though now off the island Jack's murderous intent had vanished into rather harmless bitter glares and cold shoulders. The first night when Ralph had all but outright refused to enter the room, Jack had spat at him in a venomous voice from his cot. "I'm not going to bloody kill you, so quit being such a girl." That sat fine with Ralph, of course.

They hardly spoke a word to each other after that. Jack stuck to Roger and Ralph to Samneric; the littluns were no longer in need of their care with so many grown-ups round the big boat. Ralph didn't think there was a single kid on that ship who wasn't tortured by the nightmares of beasts and little pudgy boys flying through the air only to smash down onto the rocks. He didn't think there was a boy there who didn't feel the guilt. And little did they all know, that was only the beginning.

-Homecoming-

It took a few months, but eventually they made it home. Back on land, Ralph was unused to the still ground, as was everyone else. As most of them found their land legs, they were whisked away to different places, trying to find their former addresses and their parents.

Sadly, very few of the boys had parents to speak of anymore. The casualties of the war were great, and most of the boys' parents had just been some of the unlucky ones. The remaining biguns-Ralph, Jack, Roger, and Samneric-were all orphans, along with a few of the littluns. The naval officer that had rescued the boys felt somewhat responsible for them at this point. He took it upon himself to see that they were put into suitable orphanages. That was where the littluns and biguns were separated. Ralph couldn't help but think of the littlun with the birthmark that would never be coming home. He wondered if he was with his parents now, or if they had survived the bombings and were now wondering where there little boy was, and when he was coming home. How would they take the news?

The orphanage that they were all sent to wasn't horrible, but Ralph knew it was nothing compared to his own home-probably blown to bits now, along with his parents. The thought made him sick. Had he not dealt with enough death already? Was this punishment for Simon's brutal death? All he wanted was to be rescued, to be held by his parents again after he told them everything, hoping all the while that they wouldn't see the monster that he did in himself. He saw it in all the boys, really.

...

In the months that passed in the orphanage, Ralph hadn't made any friends other than Samneric, who honestly didn't stick to his side as much anymore now that there were more kids to talk and goof around with. He became a wallflower, watching as Roger and Jack became the bullies once again, although now they were reigned in by the leashes of society. They were the kids everyone else was afraid to cross. They completely ignored Ralph. It kind of surprised him, really. He had expected them to hold some kind of deadly grudge against him. Sometimes he still awoke at night in a cold sweat, sure that they had found his hiding place and were getting ready to mount his head on the double-edged spear. After that he went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face and snap himself back into reality.

Life on the island had made Ralph paranoid. He watched the movements of others carefully, scanning for danger of any sort. He was susceptible to panic attacks that sent the other children running for a grown-up because the quiet boy was "breathing funny, again." He rarely ate enough to sustain himself, and quickly he became underweight and malnourished. Not too long after he was stuck in therapy, given medication for his depression. He began to eat more, slowly. He gained his weight back. The bags that had been under his eyes for so long that they might as well have been tattooed there disappeared, and the color returned to his face. To everyone else he seemed to be getting better.

But at night he still saw Piggy. He still saw the only true friend he had had on that island flying through the air and crushing himself on the rocks. He still saw Jack telling-no, threatening-everyone that they would get the same if they dared cross him. Simon. The pig head. The fire. He saw it all.

They were monsters. Beasts. The island had taught Ralph that. It had brought out the worst in them, and now they would never forget that lesson. They were trapped in their own darkness.

-Grown-

A boy of eighteen sat in the courtyard of a prestigious college in London. He was reading something as he sat, pensive and concentrated. A book of a ship that was caught in a devastating storm one night out at sea, crashing into an island and leaving only some of the crew alive. He wasn't reading for enjoyment. There was nothing to enjoy about a helpless group of people alone and left to sink into their own darkness until there was nothing left to do but turn on each other. Absolutely nothing.

He was reading, rather, because it was familiar to him. He knew how this ended, yet he sat there for hours with that blasted book nitpicking at every mistake he saw them make. He pleaded with them in his mind to see reason, before there was no one left to save. But of course, these kinds of stories didn't have happy endings. Not really. He knew that, as he slapped the book shut in one big pale hand.

These kinds of stories only had twisted, haunting endings. Even if the remaining were rescued-even if they survived to see the rules and regulations of society again-they would never emerge the same people they were before. They would have done things-horrible things-that would haunt them for as long as they lived. They would have awoken the beast inside of them so that it could never be tamed again. They would have killed and maimed and tortured. They would be innocent of nothing. It made him sick, that whatever god was up there in the sky looking down on this little earth could allow such a thing to take place. Didn't he see that pain it caused? Was he a sadist?

Oh, this man knew a sadist when he saw one. He had been at the mercy of one all those years ago. It killed him to think about it. That man-if you could call him that- was still out there in the world doing who knows what to who knows who. The one named Roger, who had taken the life of the one named Piggy.

Ralph straightened, feeling the splash of water on his hands where they gripped tightly the edges of the fountain he sat on. His book lay beside his white knuckles. Something had snapped him out of his bitter reverie. Someone, rather. He had heard the footsteps behind him, his ears trained by paranoia to hear the slightest noise made by someone or something that could possibly mean him harm. He stood, ready to turn and confront whoever it was that approached him. That was when a voice spoke; a voice that brought back hordes of terrible memories.

"Ralph?"

Ralph paused. He was unsure of how to proceed. Should he keep up his facade of the intelligent, sensible, stoic college student who was not here to make friends of any sort? Or should he humor this old memory, and find out what it had to offer him now of all times? He stood there for a while in complete and utter silence. The voice did not speak again, and Ralph made no move to acknowledge it. Yet...he did not feel the presence at his back fade at any moment. They both remained quiet, as if under a mutual agreement that neither would push the other until they were both prepared to handle this like the poised Englishmen they were. He took slow breaths, counting each as he had learned to do so many times when he had felt one of his infamous attacks creeping up. Inhale, exhale. One. Inhale, exhale. Two. Inhale, exhale. Three.

When he finally did turn, he was ready for the onslaught of memories that bombarded his mind. He kept his face carefully blank as his eyes searched the face of the man before him. Oh, how he could see the young choir boy in him still!

The boy who had painted his face and become a feared dictator. Ralph remembered; oh, how he remembered. He was different now, though. His face was thinner, sharper, and handsome as opposed to his chubbier, uglier appearance as a child. He had grown his hair down to chin length like it had been on the island, only now it was well-kept and pulled back into a tight and neat knot with not a hair out of place. He was tall and lanky. He looked thin and athletic, but he was well dressed in all black: shirt, trousers, blazer and all. The only color that stood out was his bright red tie. Ralph wondered absently why he was so fancied up, but he brushed it off.

He stared on, knowing how different he must have looked to the man. Ralph had definitely grown, too. His face was all angles and planes, with a strong jaw and a short mop of silky platinum hair. He was tall and slender now, like a model. He had kept the good looks that had ensured his position as chief on the island so long ago, and they had admittedly helped him throughout life thus far. It seemed now that the two were equal, now. Ralph felt the flare of old rivalry inside his abdomen, but still his face stayed stoic. It was the face that had discouraged so many potential friends and lovers. The face that let no one in and nothing out.

Finally, after was seemed like an eternity of nothing but sizing each other up, Ralph spoke. His voice was low, quiet. Not quite unfriendly, but definitely warning. "Jack. What a pleasant surprise. I hadn't a clue you went here."

"No, I was only touring the campus. I start next year." He replied. His tone was conversational. Ralph did not drop his guard. "What year are you in?"

"First." Ralph replied simply.

Jack nodded, sensing the hostility straight away. "Truthfully, I had hoped I would run into you somewhere. I didn't expect it to be at school, but I suppose it's as good a place as any."

"Oh?"

The ginger cleared his throat, his freckled hands finding his pockets and his eyes wandering to the flowing water of the fountain beside them. For a long time the only sound was the quiet splish-splash. "I realize that when we left the orphanage there were things that were...unsettled between us. I wanted to set things right. We're grown men now, and it's high time we discussed what happened."

This caught Ralph off guard at first. He hadn't known what he expected from the man that stood awkwardly as ever in front of him, but it certainly hadn't been this. Was he trying to make amends? Ralph didn't know what to think of this. Would he be able to forgive an attempt on his life? With Samneric-Ahem. Sam and Eric.-Ralph hadn't held such a grudge. They had truthfully just been forced into the whole ordeal by Roger.

But Jack. Jack had been the instigator in all of it. Once he had taken away all of the allies Ralph could possibly have, he had led the chase after the little blonde boy. And now here he stood. Once the boy who had held Ralph's life in his hands and now the man who had found him once more, allegedly here to tie up loose ends. "Is that so?"

Jack gave a small, nervous smile and nodded. "Mostly I just want to apologize." He replied. "I never really did. It appalls me now; that I could attempt to take a life and then act as if nothing ever happened after we were rescued. We were in that orphanage for years and I barely said a word to you." He looked down for a while, quiet, as if he was bowing his head to Ralph in a form of silent apology as he searched for the right words to say to him now. When he looked up his eyes were determined; they burned into Ralph's with an intensity that almost made the blonde embarrassed enough to avert his own. When he spoke, his voice was clear and loud. "I know this won't ever be enough. I know that I probably won't be able to ever make up for the things I did on that island. But...I'm sorry. More than you could ever know."

For a while all Ralph could do was stand in a stunned silence. The earnest tone of the man's voice threw him, and he found himself speechless. In all his time past the orphanage, Ralph had always known exactly the thing to say to brush anyone off. He knew how to shut down a conversation with a single sentence. He knew how to talk circles around any arrogant bastard who got too close. But in this situation he was at a loss for what exactly to say. This was, admittedly, a situation he had never seen coming. He would have never expected to see Jack Merridew again, especially not an apologetic one searching for reconciliation.

He knew exactly how idiotic he must have looked, standing there with his jaw working, trying to think of something intelligent to say. So he pushed out something, anything, to fill in the stifling silence. "Uh..." Oh brilliant. Really exceptional. Fix it. "You...really needn't..." He trailed off, scrubbing a his mouth with a palm. "It was a long time ago." True, a very long time ago. That didn't make it excusable; but Ralph didn't know what else to say.

Jack sighed and sat. Lowering himself onto the stone of the fountain, he looked out over the campus, where the sun was setting and melting into a swirl of oranges, yellows, and reds spread over the horizon like mixed paints. After a while, Ralph sat, too. He leaned his elbows onto his knees and looked out into the distance as well. "It was a long time ago, wasn't it? If only it felt that way. I can still remember everything I did like it was yesterday. I don't reckon I'll ever be able to forget an experience like that one. Not for as long as I live." Ralph could hear the regret in Jack's voice. It was almost tangible. This man was just as haunted as he.

"I've tried." Ralph replied after a pause. "God knows, I've tried. It's just not something that's ever going to go away. Being cut off from the world like that-especially that young-it changes a person. Whether it's for the better or for the worse. We weren't boys anymore, when we came back from that. It forced us to grow up too soon; it's to be expected that we would do things that would stay with us forever."

Jack gave a mirthless laugh, his eyes suddenly tired. "Some of us more than others." He rubbed his hand over his eyes and gave another sigh. "I've lost count of how many times I've dreamed of Simon...and Piggy. I was horrible to him, now that I look back." His smile was bitter.

Ralph shook his head, "I'd be surprised if any of us haven't. But I think the guilt is punishment enough. We know what we did."

"Yeah...yeah, we do."

Ralph paused for a while. He stared at Jack, who didn't seem to notice the gaze glued to him. He seemed so different now. Ralph realized then that Jack really did want to make amends. He didn't have some ulterior motive against Ralph that made him come here. Hell, he hadn't even known that the man was here until he stumbled across a figure hunched over a book at the knew then that the only way to defeat the monster inside-the beast-was to forgive the man beside him. It wasn't the experience of the island that haunted him at night, he realized, but the grudge he held that made him push away anyone and everyone. It destroyed his willingness to trust and controlled his life. And this needed to stop."I think...seeing you now after all this time...it's made me see things I didn't before." Ralph murmured. "I realize that maybe I've been being too guarded about everything. What happened to me was horrible, but I've been using it as an excuse to push others away. I have so many attacks because I don't talk about the things that are bothering me. I've been holding this grudge-against you. Against Roger and myself and that blasted island. I haven't let it go-haven't even tried. I just kept it bottled up inside me and nurtured this hate and fear that anyone who tried to get near me meant me harm. I need to stop this before it ruins me. I need to stop letting this anger control my 's why now I can truly say to you that...I forgive you. I forgive everything and everyone. I need to and I want to."

Jack looked to him, solemn and thoughtful. Nothing was said for a long while. Slowly-ever so slowly-a smile crawled its way across his face and he nodded. He looked back at the sunset, smile still in place. "Thank you." He said simply and plainly. That was all that was needed, really. Ralph grinned and nodded slowly, returning his gaze as well. Jack spoke up quietly, voice tinged with relief and sadness. "I think...I understand what Simon was saying before. About the beast..."

Ralph sucked in a slow, calming breath. "Yeah...me too."

**Okay, okay, okay~! Hope this was to everyone's liking. Even though I'm not used to dark fanfics I really tried hard on making this happen. English class actually served as an inspiration for once...who knew? So Review and tell me what you thought, yeah?**


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